


Everything is Not What it Seems

by garnering_attention



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Horror, Modern Era, POV First Person, Psychological Horror, Self-Harm, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24309988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garnering_attention/pseuds/garnering_attention
Summary: I press my back against the wall, draw my knees up to my chest and bury my fists tightly in my hair. With gasping sobs, I sit there, cold down to the very core of my being. That's how they find me in the late morning, still sitting in the same position hours later. Eyes trained on the middle of my floor, trembling with dried tear tracks on my face. I barely even noticed them unlock my door and step in, their voices hardly registering in my mind. I flinched when their hands gripped my shoulders and gently tugged me forwards. I still couldn’t process what they were saying but I let them guide me out of the room.





	Everything is Not What it Seems

**Author's Note:**

> First post on AO3!! This is just a short little horror story I wrote for my creative writing class, let me know what you think!

I’ve never been one of those people who just constantly feels the need to loudly proclaim to the world how much I love life or how grateful I am for this gift of existence. That’s not to say that I especially hate anything about my life or anything like that. I like my life, it’s calm and quiet and nice. But that’s all it is. I don’t have any exciting stories or outstanding accomplishments. What I do have is a great group of friends that I share a house with. We’re young, still figuring ourselves out in this crazy world but we keep each other sane.

Tonight we’re enjoying one of our favorite parts of the house, our fire pit. It’s just a simple ring of stones flanked by two long wooden planks resting on upright logs. There’s a large pile of chopped firewood and a garbage bin filled with smaller sticks. We always try to keep a good stockpile of wood available to support our spontaneous fireside chats. It’s the perfect way to relax after a long day.

The backyard is our escape zone. It’s small but it serves its purpose. Most of the yard is taken up by the communal garden. Everyone in the house contributes some time and effort into keeping the garden growing healthy. There are several different types of herbs and vegetables growing along with a small section dedicated just for some pretty flowers. 

It’s a lot of work but manageable when split between all four of us. Everyone has their own full time work schedule but I’m probably the one working in the garden the most. I run a small online business so I’m working from home most days which allows me to spend my breaks in the garden. At first I was a little bitter about it, I felt like it wasn’t fair for me to be putting more time and effort into this group project than the others. It led to a few arguments in the beginning but we were able to work things out. Eventually I actually grew to love it more than I ever thought I would. It’s a peaceful retreat to be able to focus on my plants for a little while and just ignore everything else.

With all the recent stress in my life dealing with a large order from my online store, I needed this relaxation night.

* * *

I sighed and rubbed at my straining eyes. It had been a long day of staring at my computer screen; replying to endless emails and video calls. I stood up from my desk, stretching out my aching back. Wandering out into the main living room, I noticed that I was the only one in the house. The others were either still at work or were out with other friends. Living in a small house with your three friends can be exhausting sometimes. I love them but I like my solitary time as well.

Walking over to the kitchen, the mirror in the hallway caught my attention. I’m not sure what it was exactly, maybe some movement or something? Either way, I walked over and looked closely at myself. Other than irritation, dark irises and darker eye bags, I didn’t notice anything unusual. Shrugging, I walked back to the kitchen and poured myself some water. Then I wandered outside to take a deep breath of fresh air and check on my plants.

Later, I was plucking out a few weeds when I heard some distant voice coming from the open window. I brushed the dirt off my hands and went inside to investigate. I opened the door leading into the kitchen but the room was empty. The window was still open and I could have sworn I heard the voice coming from in here.

Just then, one of my roommates walked in loudly groaning about aching feet and rude customers. Laughing, we settled in and shared stories from the day.

* * *

A small business owner is really not what I had planned or ever expected for my future. I never really thought too much about what I wanted to spend my life doing and just fell into doing this after realizing my hobbies could become profitable. It was fun most of the time but actual business and the financial aspects will never be something I really enjoy. While I’m glad that the business has been growing more successful, I think the increase in sales is directly proportional to my increasing stress and anxiety.

Some days it feels like I’m losing my mind. My brain is so focused on running numbers and doing mental calculations that I keep losing everything the second I put it down. Too many times now my roommates have witnessed me frantically searching for whatever notebook, pencil or other item only to find it later on the couch, on the floor of my room or just generally anywhere other than my desk where it should be.

Seeing my increasing stress, my wonderful roommates have made a point to check in with me during the day whenever they can, bringing me snacks or water. I’m grateful for their support, even when my frustration makes me snap at them for the smallest things like them whispering just outside my door when I’m trying to focus. I look out the window next to my desk at the warm sun and zip up my sweatshirt. I’ve been feeling so chilly lately. Maybe it’s just my body requesting I go out into the actual warm sunshine instead of just sitting here trapped behind the glass.

* * *

I think my roommates are starting to get annoyed with me. I’ve been snapping at them more and more often. I know I shouldn’t take my frustrations out on them like this but I can’t help it. I’ve asked them so many times to stop with the damn whispering outside my door when I’m working but they don’t get it. It wouldn’t usually bother me this much but they just deny doing it despite the fact that I can hear them all the time.

This is an important time for me and I might have a really big deal in the making for my business. I’m excited to make this work but the stress of getting everything right is just too much. My anxiety has been through the roof and I’ve been jumping at shadows. It’s like there’s something just in the corner of my eye but every time I look there’s nothing there. The same thing happens with reflections too. Mirrors and glass keeps catching my eye for some reason, but nothing is ever there. All I see in the window is my own tired eyes and my poor garden, slowly filling with weeds.

* * *

I haven’t been sleeping well lately but tonight has been the worst night of my life. I had struggled to fall asleep, tossing and turning for hours before I finally settled in. I don’t know what time it is but I’m awake again and it’s still dark. Not sure what woke me up but maybe it’s the weird metallic smell in the air. I sighed in frustration, staring up at my ceiling. All I wanted was some nice sleep. I just need this one thing to be normal right now. I turned on my side, now facing away from the wall and out towards the rest of my room.

My breath caught in my throat and a freezing chill overtook my entire body. There in the corner of my room was a pale figure. I always lock my doors and windows at night and I would hope that my roommates would be respectful enough not to break into my room while I slept. My heart is pounding in my chest and I can’t take my eyes off it. 

The creature is hunched over itself in the corner, slowly rocking its body back and forth. It was crouched down balanced on the toes with its knees held closely to its chest. It’s skeletal frame is barely covered by flaky white skin stretched taut over sharp bones. Pink scratches cover almost every inch of its exposed skin. Only a few dirty rag like clothes hang off the grotesque form. As it rocked, it’s long thin fingers were tearing deep gouges into its own shoulders. Dark red streams flowed down its back, painting every rib and dripping off it’s elbow into a small puddle. It’s head is mostly bald with a few patches of thin stringy dark hair. It was then that I noticed that the room was not as silent as I thought it was. I could hear a voice whispering again. It was the same whispering I had previously blamed on my roommates.

The ice in my chest held my limbs in place and I didn’t dare to move. I couldn’t run and I couldn’t scream. I was so afraid that any movement at all would alert the creature to my presence. The door was directly across from my bed, in the parallel corner from the creature. I didn’t know if I’d be able to get up and run to the door before whatever that thing was would catch me and there was no way I’d be able to get up without making any noise to sneak out. I was trapped there, so alone and so very scared. 

My lungs ache and I finally take a gasping breath. The creature freezes in place and the room drops into eerie silence. My whole body is trembling as it slowly turns to face me. It’s lower jaw hangs loosely open, showing off the few rotting teeth barely clinging to its gums with pink drool dripping from its grimy chin. Deeply sunken dark eyes stare into mine and it’s head tilts in curiosity. With a deep groaning hiss, it uncurls from the corner and reaches out with bloody jagged nails. It begins to crawl like an animal on its hands and toes towards me. The painful pounding in my chest continues, my breathing picks up, but my limbs are still locked into place. Completely frozen and unable to escape my own demise.

In the span of a blink, the creature is gone. I shoot upright, suddenly free of my paralysis, tears spilling down my cheeks. I don’t dare take my eyes off where that monster was just in case it comes back just as suddenly as it disappeared. I press my back against the wall, draw my knees up to my chest and bury my fists tightly in my own dark hair. With gasping sobs, I sit there, cold down to the very core of my being.

My roommates find me in the late morning still sitting in the same position hours later. Eyes trained on the middle of my floor, trembling with dried tear tracks on my face. I barely even noticed them unlock my door and step in, their voices hardly registering in my mind. I flinched when their hands gripped my shoulders and tugged me forwards. I still couldn’t process what they were saying but I let them guide me out of the bed and out of the room. 

They pushed me gently to sit on the couch while they wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and another pair of hands pressed a warm cup of tea into mine. I was still shaking, but the warm hands rubbing my arms began to thaw the ice in my chest. I tried to explain what I saw but they couldn’t understand. They just thought it was a horrible nightmare or some kind of sleep paralysis but it felt too real. Their empty words of comfort meant nothing to me. 

* * *

I don’t know what caused the first sighting but now that I know the monster is out there, I can’t look away. I see that thing more and more. Now when reflections catch my eye it’s because that pale skeletal face is watching me from the corner of whatever room I’m in. 

Now when I scream and start throwing things at whatever corner I see it in, my roommates rush in and try to stop me. At first it was with gentle words and soft touches but I can tell they’re growing more frustrated. Sometimes they yell, grabbing my wrists to stop my rampages, and insisting that it’s not real. They can’t see it when they look right at it. They can’t hear it when it whispers and groans in that horrible raspy voice. They can’t feel it when it finally reaches out with sharp nails and digs into their skin.

It’s getting worse and I don’t know why. The monster is growing bolder and staying longer. I haven’t been able to work in days. Every time I sit at my desk and attempt to focus on something normal, I can feel the monster’s nails digging into my arms or tugging at my wrists. I try to show my roommates the scratches it leaves behind but they claim not to see anything but untouched pale skin.

* * *

I don’t scream anymore. The monster has become a near constant presence in my life. I hate it. I’ve watched it stare curiously at my roommates as it digs it’s nails into their skin. Together, we watch the blood well up as they continue to talk like nothing happened. Later, their skin will appear just as clean and unblemished as they always think it is.

My roommates are worried but they don’t know what to do with me. I can hear them talking about me when they think I’m sleeping. I don’t sleep anymore. I don’t care what they say about me. They never believe me, they just think I’m going crazy but I know it’s real. 

Every time I close my eyes I feel it’s rancid breath on my face and when I dare to turn my back on it I can still feel it’s soulless eyes on me. Instead, I just lay there in the dark and tug harshly at my hair. I don’t even notice when I’m doing it anymore until someone pulls my hands away and brushes off the thin strands I’ve managed to pull out.

I heard them mention something about how thin I’ve gotten. I can’t remember the last time I could stomach anything. How can I think about food with everything that’s happening right now? Anything I eat just tastes like ash and I can barely even choke down some water. My throat hurts constantly but nothing helps. It doesn’t matter anyway. Every waking moment is spent thinking about the monster. Nothing else matters right now. I want it gone. I want to be able to go to sleep again. I want to just exist without this constant overwhelming dread. I want to go back out into my garden again. My poor garden. I haven’t even been outside to check on it in so long. It’s probably so overgrown with weeds by now. My roommates are too busy trying to help me and I’m too busy with the monster to care for it.

I want it gone. I hate it. I would do anything to get rid of it.

* * *

I can’t stand to even look at them anymore. My roommates. My so-called friends. They claim to want to help me, that they love me and support me. No. They don’t believe me. They don’t see what I see. How can they help me get rid of it if they refuse to see it. I know I’m right. 

Every day the monster gets bolder. It screams in their faces and digs it’s nails into their faces. How much damage can it do before it becomes real for them. Part of me wants them to see it; wants them to understand the fear I’ve been living with so long. But a larger part of me is terrified of that day.

Even now, I’m sitting on the couch with all of my roommates around me. None of them are close enough to touch me. I think they’ve been too scared to touch me for a while now. They don’t want to set me off but I rarely react to anything anymore. One of them is speaking now. I don’t know what they’re saying. It probably has to do with me but I don’t hear them. I’m watching the monster. It’s crouched in front of them, just whispering to them. It’s peaceful for now, but that can change. It can’t hide the blood that still stains its fingertips. 

* * *

I can’t take it anymore. I’m laying on my bed, hands pulling at my hair while the monster is scratching at my body. It’s been hours and I don’t know what my skin could possibly look like anymore. 

With no warning, I suddenly kick out and catch the monster in the chest. It falls back and I race to my feet. My heart is pounding, blind rage coursing through my body. It’s raspy screams follow me as I run out of the room. I don’t see any of my roommates on the way to the kitchen and out the back door. I can hear it racing after me and I run faster out into the garden when I see my opportunity. One of my roommates must have been digging up the many dead plants and left a shovel leaning against the house.

I turn my head in time to see the monster screaming and racing across the ground towards me. Grabbing the heavy shovel, I swing with all my strength just as the monster leaps at my head. The shovel collides with its face with a sickening thud. It’s down but not for long. It’s jaw hangs unevenly as it hisses viciously at me. My body is shaking, blood roaring in my ears. It reaches for me and I tighten my grip on the shovel. Screaming, I bring the shovel down on the monster again and again and again. It’s voice fades out and it’s body becomes still, but I don’t stop. I can feel it’s blood splatter on my face and hands, I can feel it’s bones break but I don’t stop.

Tears fall down my face and my own screams finally break before I stop. Everything is still. I look down at the monster but i don’t know what to feel. I thought I would be happy or at least relieved to know it was finally over. But I don’t feel anything. Just the persistent numb coolness in my chest.

I stare at the monster’s body at my feet. It still doesn’t feel like it’s over. Looking at its body just makes me feel like it could still raise up again at any moment. I walk over to the fire pit and begin the familiar process of building a fire all while keeping an eye on the monster’s body. Once the flames have been built up, I walk back over and drag the body over to the fire. I pause for a moment but the burning rage comes back and I struggle to toss the body onto the flames. With a large pile of logs and kindling next to me, I settle onto the ground and watch the embers fly into the sky.

I don’t know exactly how long I sat there watching the flames dance. It’s finally over but this isn’t what I thought it would be like. My throat is raw and aching, dried blood still splattered on my hands and face, nothing feels real. 

The sun has risen for the second time before I allow the flames to die. I groan as I stand and stiff joints make their protests known. I don’t look into the ashy fire pit as I walk back to the house. When I enter the kitchen I can hear voices coming from the living room. It’s my roommates but they sound different, happy even. I can hear laughing. It’s been so long since there’s been any laughter in this house.

Hobbling over to the living room, I look in and see four people chatting on the couch. Three of them are my roommates. But I focus on the fourth person. It’s my face, my voice, my body but it’s not me. The fake sits in my place and somehow my roommates don’t seem to notice or care that it’s not really me. 

Furious, I charge into the room and attempt to yell out but my aching throat protests and it comes out as only a raspy choke. No one even notices. I walk right up to them, waving my arms in their faces but not one even looks at me. I grab their arms but still they don’t react. I’d just think they were ignoring me because they were angry or frustrated with my recent behavior but the presence of the fake unnerves me. 

I crouch down in front of the fake and stare deeply at them. They don’t seem to see me but they will. I’ll make them see me. I’ve proven that I’ll do whatever it takes. I won’t let this fake take over my life.


End file.
